A Dwarf and an Elf Walk Into A Bar
by beargirl1393
Summary: A dwarf of Erebor and an elf from the Greenwood meet in a tavern. What do they discuss? Written for Gigolas Week 2015- Complete


_For Gigolas week day 2, the outsider POV, I did this. I considered Dis for awhile, but then I thought the dads needed a chance to have their say about it._

* * *

On the outskirts of Dale, almost halfway between the elvenking's realm and the Lonely Mountain, there was a tavern. It had been built after the battle, the original proprietor had fought in the battle and put his money to good use afterwards. The man had done good business when the dwarves passed through on their way back to the mountain, and when he grew older he passed it on to his daughter, who in turn passed it on to her eldest child when she grew old. Even after the dwarves had settled in the mountain, the tavern still did good business with men, elves, and dwarves alike stopping on their way to or from Erebor, Dale, or the elvenking's realm on business.

Thus, it wasn't too surprising to see a dwarf of Erebor entering the pub, making his way to the proprietor and asking for a private room. After a few minutes of haggling, Taya and the dwarf came to an agreement, and he went up to his room with her promising to send up two meals and ales and him passing over the agreed upon sum. He told her to be on the lookout for his companion, who should be arriving soon, and then left to go get comfortable while he waited.

Not long after the dwarf had been settled in the private room, while Taya was finishing up the tray she was going to take for him, a tall blonde elf arrived at the tavern. Again, it was nothing unusual, although as said elf was meeting with the dwarf, that did inspire quite a bit of curiosity. Still, Taya simply led the way to the room, leaving the food and ale, and left the dwarf and elf to their business. They seemed prepared to be civil enough, so she decided that she didn't need to keep an eye on them.

* * *

In the room that the proprietor had just left, Gloin son of Groin and Thranduil Oropherion stared each other down from opposite sides of the room. It was an unlikely meeting, both could admit to that, but they didn't have any choice at present. Gimli and Legolas had yet to be deterred from their choice to court, and nothing their fathers had said had done anything. Both Thranduil and Gloin, in their own ways, had tried to make their sons 'see sense', and both of them had been delivered an ultimatum.

"I assume that your son delivered the same speech that Legolas gave to me," Thranduil asked, eventually crossing the room and settling gracefully in the chair across from the dwarf. He saw that instead of ale, he had wine with his meal, and there were less greasy foods than there were on the dwarf's plate. He was surprised by that amount of consideration, regardless of how small it was. "And I would assume that you are equally displeased with the terms that have been set?" He was also irritated that his son was trying to order him around, regardless of how deserved it was.

"Aye, Gimli told me, and my wife has had her say as well," Gloin replied, and he had the grace to look sheepish as he ran a hand through his snow white hair. "Got an earful from both of them. Still, I assume your terms are the same. Either I accept your son and you accept mine, or neither of us will see them again." And he didn't doubt that Gimli was stubborn enough to go through with it. Perhaps the elf was too, he would have to be stubborn to be able to hold his own against Gimli, after all.

"Regrettably, yes," Thranduil admitted, picking up his wine goblet and taking an idle sip. Disgraceful compared to what he was used to, but all that an establishment such as this was capable of. At least the dwarf didn't seem any happier with his ale. "Legolas was very direct. Either I accept the dwarf, or he will leave permanently." It was the first time he had truly argued with his son in some time, and he was startled by the conviction that he'd seen. Legolas truly meant what he said, if Thranduil did not accept the dwarf, he would truly leave.

"So, we need to decide if our fool pride is worth more than our sons," Gloin said bluntly. Normally, he would be more tactful, he had learned patience over the years and had learned to hold onto his temper, but in this case there was no point. They both knew what they needed to do, they just needed to decide whether their pride was worth the loss of their sons. He took another drink of his ale, barely refraining from grimacing. Maybe he'd gotten a bit spoiled in the years since Erebor was reclaimed, since he'd had terrible ale in taverns before that, but that was a matter for another day.

"It sounds irritatingly simple when you say it like that," Thranduil admitted with a sigh. He had heard good things about Gimli, and he doubted that he would have a problem with the dwarf if he were courting anyone other than Legolas. He didn't want his son throwing his life away on a mortal, however, especially when that mortal was a dwarf. But, what choice did he have? If he didn't accept this, Legolas would leave. He knew his son wasn't simply bluffing, he would ignore him for eternity if necessary, and Thranduil may be stubborn, but he wasn't a fool.

"Aye, it does, doesn't it?" Gloin replied, shaking his head. He didn't want his son courting an elf. They were immortal, for one, and tended to have a poor view of dwarves in general. That elf in particular had insulted his wife and wee Gimli as well as throwing them in his father's dungeons, so he thought a bit of protest was expected. Except Gimli wasn't going to tolerate anyone questioning his intended, and he was stubborn enough to cut himself off from them if that was what it would take. "I still don't like you, and your son still owes my wife an apology."

Thranduil's lips nearly twitched, but it was covered by a timely sip of wine. "And I still dislike you, yet I am not foolish enough to lose my son because of a centuries old feud, so we had best learn to tolerate each other." They would be expected to be civil during the wedding, at the very least. "So, do you believe that we will be able to be civil enough to convince our sons that we accept their decisions?"

Gloin actually chuckled, looking over at the elf with a small amount of amusement visible, despite the large beard covering most of his face. "I think we'll be able to manage it. Haven't threatened you yet, have I? And you've yet to make your customary 'dwarves are beneath me' speech, so I'd say that is some sort of progress." Better than either of them had managed before, and likely better than they would have managed without any incentive. As it was, when the choice was losing Gimli or accepting the elf…there was no choice, really. Gloin was an old, proud dwarf, but he knew when to yield.

Thranduil, likewise, was an old, proud elf, but he also knew when to yield. He wasn't going to lose Legolas, not because of this. "Progress of a sort, Master Dwarf," he replied, before switching the subject to trade, something they were both familiar with and would have little chance of turning out horribly.

The elf and the dwarf bickered back and forth as they ate and drank, but by the time they parted ways and headed back to their respective kingdoms, each had decided that the other wasn't as bad as they'd previously believed. Not that they would tell their sons that, they would already be far too smug.


End file.
